


North and South

by ThatMadHatter



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BECAUSE THAT WOULD HAVE ACHIEVED THE SAME EMOTIONAL IMPACT WITHOUT DESTROYING THE CHARACTER WHEDON, M/M, Slow Burn, Wakanda (Marvel), mind control fuckery, okay there's also another farm but this is one I've entirely made up, tags will be added as the story is written, the author has opinions, there is no farm, well there is a farm but it's Barney's, winterhawk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:08:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21648796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatMadHatter/pseuds/ThatMadHatter
Summary: What if Clint had been rescued by Steve too and gone to Wakanda? And what if there was no freaking farm with Hawkeye's wife and kids in Age of Ultron?
Relationships: Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton, Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson (background)
Comments: 33
Kudos: 118





	1. Escape

Clint was surprised when his cell door opened. 

They’d been on the Raft for nearly a month. He was steadily going more and more stir crazy. Doing push-ups. Pacing around the cell, 12.04 feet long, 9.1 feet wide. You’d think the measurements would be exact, 12X9. But they often were just a little bit off. He’d had time to calculate all sorts of things, angles, lengths, plotting a way to get them all out, just waiting for the right moment.

And then Captain America himself stepped into his cell. Except it wasn’t Captain America. The shield was gone, along with the uniform. It was just Steve Rogers standing in front of him in a black zip-up jacket.

“You my new bunkmate?” Clint asked, not moving from his current position of lounging on his cot.

“Only if you follow me.” Steve said. 

“Following you got me in here.” Clint pointed out.

“Which makes it my job to get you out.”

“And if I don’t want to follow you after we get out?”

“That’s your choice.” Steve said, face giving nothing away. Clint stared for a long moment, assessing. Steve didn’t waver, as always. And that was the thing with him, wasn’t it? He never fucking wavered. That was what made him so easy to follow at times. But also made it hard to trust him if you didn’t 100% agree with him.

“Clint?” Wanda appeared behind Steve. The power collar still around her neck, but at least she was out of that damn straight jacket. Clint stood immediately, shouldering past Steve to get to her.

“You alright?” His voice was soft as he touched her shoulder. Wanda liked physical assurance, he’d seen that with her brother. Once he knew she trusted him to touch her, he tried to give that physical comfort as often as possible.

“Let’s leave.” She said.

“Not without getting that thing off you.” Clint ran a finger along the collar. It would open with the right key. He looked up and saw Sam, and T’Challa walking towards them. That explained the rescue party.

“We don’t have time right now.” Steve said. “We have seven minutes before reinforcements get here.”

“Like hell we don’t.” Clint spat, and that was the first real show of his anger towards Steve. They’d gone up against their own people and Steve had left them all to be caged, and in Wanda’s case, collared. 

When he’d said that some of them might have to lose in Germany, Clint hadn’t meant this. Hadn’t meant watching Wanda be kept in a collar and straightjacket while he was twenty seven feet away. Watched her refuse to speak or eat to the point where they had to force feed her a liquid diet. He’d had a month to stew and build up his anger and now he had someone to direct it at.

“My sister will be able to remove the collar. It may also be best to free her in an open and safe environment; we do not know what may be released upon opening it.” T’Challa said, calmly and smoothly. 

“He’s right.” Wanda said, reaching out to grasp Clint’s hand. He felt her heartbeat fluttering in her palm. “I am okay. I want to leave.” Clint still paused for a moment. “Now.”

Well, alright then. Clint nodded, squeezing Wanda’s hand. “What about Scott?” 

“I’ve been offered a deal.” Scott chimed in from his cell, he was leaning against the glass, watching them all. “I’m taking it. I can’t abandon Cassie. But you should all go.”

Yeah, Clint had been offered that deal too. Could’ve gone to live with his brother and family on their farm. But that would’ve meant leaving Wanda completely alone. Her brother had died saving Clint, there was no way he was leaving her now. Clint clicked his teeth together and turned to T’Challa.

“Lead the way.” 

They raced down the halls out to the hanger bay, Steve leading as always, with T’Challa taking up the rear. The ceiling was already open and a small… plane? Ship? An aircraft of some kind that Clint had never seen was waiting for them. He assumed it belonged to T’Challa, which, no way is Wakanda not a highly technologically-advanced society. He’d guessed that after seeing T’Challa’s suit. When they fought in Germany, his arrows had ricocheted off in a way that was eerily similar to what they did when they made contact with Steve’s shield.

They all climbed into the aircraft, where a woman was sitting in the pilot’s seat, clearly waiting. Tattoos were inked into her shaved head, and she glared at them all as they came in, even T’Challa.

“We are running low on time. Reinforcements are two minutes away.” She said, and Clint recognized a similar accent to T’Challa’s. He settled onto one of the bench seats close to the cockpit so he could see, keeping Wanda tucked against him. Sam and Steve sat down across from them, while T’Challa strode forward to stand by the woman. 

“Go, Okoye. Now.” T’Challa commanded. Okoye, the woman’s name? The door closed behind them and they took off into the open night sky. 

There were several long minutes of tense quiet. Everyone waiting to see if something would happen. Clint kept track of Wanda’s heartbeat by resting a hand on her wrist; she was hiding her anxiety well, but he could feel the evidence of the adrenaline likely pumping through her veins. 

Finally T’Challa’s shoulders relaxed and he stepped away to come back to the passengers. “They will not be able to track us. Ms. Maximoff, if you would allow me to scan the device, I can send the scan to my sister and she should have a way to remove it by the time we land.”

Wanda nodded and stood. T’Challa held out a small grey device that whirred and projected a pattern of lines from the bottom of her jaw to the top of her collarbone. He circled her once and turned the device off. He touched it to a circle of beads on his wrist, which flashed briefly, then set the device aside.

“It is a few hours to Wakanda; there we will remove the collar.” 

“And then what?” Clint asked.

“You have all been granted asylum in Wakanda, though not publicly. You may remain in my country so long as you commit no crimes against my people.”

“And where’s the Winter Soldier?” Clint asked. “I’ve noticed he’s not on the rescue team.”

“Bucky’s back in Wakanda. In cryostasis.” Steve answered. All eyes turned to him.

“You left him there?” Sam asked incredulously.

“He’s being watched by the Wakandans. And someone I trust.”

“Who?” Clint couldn’t help but think that everyone Steve trusted was probably on this plane or, apparently, in cryostasis.

“Natasha.”

*

The aircraft landed a few hours later, just as the sun was rising. Which meant Clint got to watch them make their entrance into Wakanda. The only thing that kept him from jumping up and shouting that they were going to crash was Okoye, T’Challa, and Steve’s absolute calm. The projection passed them and he stood to look out over the city.

Yup. Wakanda was not what it presented itself to the rest of the world. An advanced city covered in far more green than any other he’d seen was spread out in front of him, lights still visible against the pale dawn. 

“Home.” Okoye said, and Clint realized she had lost the agitated glare. There was a glimmer of pride on her face. He understood why.

They landed and the door opened onto an open area in front of a large building with glass walls. Everyone filed out behind T’Challa. “Ms. Maximoff, if you would follow me to my sister’s lab, we will get to work on taking the collar off. The rest of you can follow Captain Rogers to your rooms-”

“No.” Clint interjected. “Where she goes, I go.” He stood slightly in front of Wanda, not willing to let her be separated from everyone she knew.

“Clint,” Steve sounded exasperated. “We’re guests here.”

“It’s fine, Captain.” T’Challa said. 

“If it’s all the same.” Sam said, “I’d like for us all to stick together.” He made eye contact with Clint, nodding slightly. 

“Alright. Guess we’re all going.” Steve said. They followed T’Challa into the building. Okoye broke off to go upstairs while the rest of them made their way down. Clint formed a mental map in his head, keeping an eye on the many guards around them. The spiraling white ramp down into the lab gave him a full 360 degree view before they reached the bottom.

Clint wasn’t a tech geek, but he recognized highly advanced technology. Tony would shit himself if he knew this was here. Clint shut the thought of Tony out of his mind immediately. Who cared what Tony thought anymore? He was even more responsible for that collar around Wanda’s neck than Steve was.

“Shuri.” T’Challa called out as they neared the bottom. “I have brought you some guests.” 

Shuri appeared with a bright smile. Clint was struck by how young she was. Younger than Wanda even. This was the person that was going to get her free?

“Ah, I was only expecting the one, Brother.” Shuri said, her tone teasing. “But I suppose this is not surprising.” She approached Wanda immediately and Clint had to stop himself from smacking her hand away from Wanda as she touched the collar. 

“You can get it off her?” Clint asked. Shuri nodded, not looking up from the collar. She lifted some of Wanda’s hair to look at the back.

“Yes. Though I would prefer not to do so in my lab. There are many delicate materials and equipment down here. If Ms. Maximoff experiences any surge she cannot control, I would prefer it not be near explosive material.” 

“I can control myself.” Wanda said, looking defensive.

“I mean no disrespect.” Shuri said, dropping Wanda’s hair and stepping away. “We do not know what will happen once I take the collar off. Have you had your abilities restricted in this way before?”

“No.” Wanda admitted. 

“It is only a safety precaution. Not a judgement on your control.” Shuri assured Wanda.

There was something about the absolute genuineness of her expression. Maybe that, combined with her age, made Clint believe her. Shuri clearly wasn’t afraid of Wanda, not with the way she’d immediately approached the Scarlet Witch and touched her.

“I do need to run a few more scans on the device.” Shuri said. “The handheld one my brother used didn’t give me a clear enough picture for me to figure out how to disable the failsafe.”

“Failsafe?” Steve asked.

“There is a small explosive at the back of the device. If I do not disable it before removing the collar, it will kill her.” Wanda paled slightly and Shuri rushed with assurances. “I only need a better scan. I believe I know how to disable it, but I want to be certain. This will not take long.”

Twenty minutes later Shuri completed her scans. “Yes, this will work.” She mused, mostly to herself. Clint was leaning against one of the stone walls, keeping his eyes on everything. Wanda sat in on a stool, hair in a loose braid that Shuri had coiled up in a sort of bun atop her head, while Sam and Steve were talking quietly in a corner. “Alright, I have it. We will use the landing platform, it should be clear.” Shuri announced. 

They all trooped back up the winding ramp, Clint keeping a hand at Wanda’s back. Then they were back outside, where the sun had fully risen and the aircraft was gone, leaving a wide expanse of open air. Clint took a deep breath, and noticed that though they were in a city, it didn’t smell of smog or pollution. There was a current of spices he couldn’t identify just at the edge of the air. 

It smelled good here. And it felt good to breathe open air in the sun.

“You ready?” He asked Wanda. She looked up at him and nodded.

“I’ll remove the collar. I suggest the rest of you stand back, just in case.” Shuri said, holding what looked like a bracelet of thick beads with white markings on them. T’Challa, Sam, and Steve stood back a few yards away, but Clint remained with Wanda. He stood a little in front of her, so he could see her face.

“She won’t hurt me.” Clint said. 

Shuri looked to Wanda, silently asking if it was okay that Clint stood there. “I won’t hurt him.” Wanda confirmed. “Or you.” 

Shuri seemed to deem that satisfactory. She put one bead near the front of the collar, near the red lights that indicated it was on, and one at the back of the collar where Clint assumed the failsafe was. 

“In three,” Clint squared his feet and kept direct eye contact with Wanda. “Two, one.”

The collar fell off into Shuri’s hands and Wanda’s eyes glowed red. 

Shuri took several steps back as heat emanated from Wanda and red flames burst from her hands. Clint remained planted, crossing his arms over his chest. Wanda gritted her teeth and he saw the struggle in her face. A month’s worth of rage and power rushing back into her. Her veins were alight with red magic. 

“Shuri!” T’Challa yelled, but Shuri also stayed where she was after her initial retreat. 

“I am fine!” She called to him as she stared at Wanda, watching her struggle for control. 

Clint felt sweat trickle down the back of his neck, but he stayed where he was. “You’ve got this.” He said, keeping his cadence calm. This was something he could do. He could stay right here for Wanda, to give her a reason to contain her power.

Wanda raised her eyes to him, then glanced above her head. He wasn’t sure what she was doing until both of her hands shot up and released a fury of red, magic-laced flames. Wanda let out a cry of anguish, the scream ripped from her throat involuntarily. The fire above them was tumultuous. If Clint had looked up, he would have been able to see faces in the flames. 

The heat stopped. 

Clint uncrossed his arms and wiped the back of a hand across his forehead. Wanda lowered her hands, panting slightly, but not sweat-drenched like Clint. She staggered toward him and he caught her, taking most of her weight.

“That was amazing!” Shuri seemed to be full of delight. She came back to Clint and Wanda. “And I am very glad we did not do that in the lab.” She smiled and Clint felt Wanda shake a little with suppressed laughter.

“You were right.” Wanda conceded, voice slightly crackly after her scream. Clint ran a hand up her back, soothing away some of the tension.

“Is everyone okay?” The rest of the group had run up to them, followed by several of the red-uniformed guards Clint had seen earlier.

“Princess! Are you alright?” One of them shouted. They were holding spears and looked ready to put one into Wanda. Clint curled himself around her just a little bit more.

“We’re fine.” Clint said. “Everyone’s fine.” 

“Hell of a lightshow.” A familiar voice purred from just behind him. Clint whipped his head around.

“Christ, Nat.” He muttered. She smirked, one corner of her mouth raised. 

“Are you sure you are alright?” T’Challa was asking Shuri. She was grinning wildly and nodding. Steve and Sam had taken up slightly defensive positions on either side of Clint and Wanda, as the guards were still holding their spears in a way that made it clear they were ready to take action.

“Come on. Let’s get you all inside. I think Wanda could use a sandwich.” Natasha strode away in the direction of another building, ignoring the guards. Clint would follow Natasha anywhere, so he pushed forward, still supporting Wanda. 

Half an hour later the defected Avengers, as Clint had taken to calling them in his head, were sitting in a shared kitchen area eating an enormous pile of sandwiches, cut fruit, and some kind of salad with vegetables that Clint wasn’t entirely sure what they were. Well, most of them were eating the salad. Clint had taken three sandwiches and was working his way through all of them. He’d been locked up for long enough, if he didn’t want to eat vegetables, he damn well wasn’t going to.

Was there pizza in Wakanda? There had to be. Pizza was universal, right?

The sandwich was some kind of roast beef with a thick bread studded with grains. It was fucking delicious too, especially after prison food. Even Wanda was eating with gusto, though she seemed to like the vegetable salad. 

“Where’ve you been Nat?” Clint asked as he neared the end of his third sandwich. Sam and Wanda’s eyes went to her. She was perched atop a counter near the table, watching them all like a mother hen. Natasha was motherly in her own way, she watched the people close to her and evaluated what they might need. 

“She’s been here.” Steve answered.

“I didn’t ask you.” Clint whipped out his response. “Last I heard Natasha was with Stark.” He turned to direct his voice at Natasha. “And you know I love you  _ pauk, _ but I seem to be missing how you ended up here.”

“I helped Steve and Bucky escape from the battle in Germany. After that it seemed unlikely that I would be allowed to return to the U.S. without being imprisoned in the raft. I went underground for a few days, but I was paying attention. I knew Steve and Bucky had gotten out of Siberia alive, I contacted Steve once I figured out where he was. Now I’m here.”

“So you were a double agent?” Clint said.

“Not… not exactly.” Natasha seemed hesitant. “It wasn’t my intention to cross Tony, but once I realized what was at stake…” She drifted and stopped. Clint knew that was as much as she would be willing to divulge right now. 

“Natasha did what she felt was right. And I’m grateful to her for that.” Steve said. His plate was empty and he leaned back in his chair, running a hand over his face. “Without her I would’ve been on the Raft too. And I don’t even want to think about where Bucky might be.”

“You said he’s in cryo now?” Clint asked. 

“Until we can figure out how to remove the programming from his mind.... Yes.” Steve didn’t seem happy about that at all. 

“I might be able to help with that.” Wanda said. 

“No offense Wanda, but I don’t think Bucky wants anyone digging into his mind.” Steve said, standing and taking his plate to the sink.

“I don’t need to change anything if that makes you uncomfortable. But I can look and see where the... “ Wanda paused, seeming to search for a word. She muttered something in Sokovian. “Anchors? Where the programming points are. I’ve seen Hydra’s programming before. They tried to use it on my brother and I. It did not work because I could see what they were doing.”

Wanda didn’t talk much about her time in Hydra. Or her brother. Clint felt the gravity of what she was offering. 

“Steve,” Sam said. “I think Bucky would let her do it.”

“I don’t like the idea of someone messing around in his head.” Steve said. 

“Someone’s gonna have to in order to fix it.” Sam argued. “And Wanda’s seen it before. Firsthand. Shuri hasn’t been able to make much progress, it could take months or longer. Wanda might be able to fix him today.”

“I cannot fix him.” Wanda interjected quickly. “Only remove the programming. If what I have heard about him is true, he is going to need time to heal.”

Clint wasn’t sure what to think about all this. Barnes had seemed fine enough to him in the twenty minutes he spent with him before the battle. They hadn’t really spoken and the guy had seemed twitchy, sure, but not broken. But Clint had heard about the trigger words used against Barnes. Had been questioned about it at one point on the raft in fact. And he knew what it was like to have control taken away from you. To be turned into nothing more than a weapon.

Blue flashed in front of his eyes for a moment, but he blinked it away.  _ Not now _ , he told himself. 

“None of that can happen right now.” Clint said. “We all need sleep. Wanda especially. She’s been awake for days.” So had Clint for that matter. He couldn’t bring himself to sleep when Wanda was so far gone. She did nothing but stare at the wall for hours, and he had been helpless-

He cut off the thought. They were fine now. Wanda was free, they were both free.

“You guys get some sleep. I want to check on Bucky.” Steve said. “I can discuss the possibility of Wanda helping with the Wakandans. See what they think.”

“I’ll come with you.” Sam said, standing from his seat. “I don’t need sleep right now.”

That was interesting. Clint glanced at Natasha to see if she noticed it too. Sam didn’t want to leave Steve. If Natasha noticed anything she wasn’t letting it show. He needed to talk with her alone at some point soon.

“Give us six hours.” Clint said. It was still early in the day in Wakanda. If they wanted to set their circadian rhythms properly they shouldn’t sleep at all until later. But Clint figured they could pass on that for now. He would want to sneak around tonight anyway to get a good feel for the place.

They each had their own room with a large bed, a desk area, a dresser, and their own bathroom. They seemed to be in some kind of guest wing for what Clint would call the Wakandan Palace. T’Challa was a king right? Kings lived in Palaces? He’d taken a long shower and came out into the room with only a towel around his hips. He didn’t want to put the prison scrubs back on. If they let him, he’d burn them later.

Fortunately there were clothes in his size in the dresser. He pulled on underwear and soft black sleep pants. The room was warm enough that he didn’t bother with a shirt, instead he fell facedown onto the bed and let out a long groan. That prison cot had sucked. His feet always hung off the edge unless he curled himself up. Now he could be spread-eagle on the bed and still have enough room to roll over.

Clint fell asleep.

  
  
  



	2. Figuring Out a Plan

Clint woke with a mouthful of red hair. He leaned away and sneezed loudly before looking over to see who had crawled into his bed while he was asleep. Wanda was curled on her side about a foot away from him, her long hair had somehow migrated across his pillow and into his mouth. She shifted at the sound of his sneeze. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asked. She mumbled into the pillow and he chuckled before lying back down, purposely tugging her into his arms. She was like the little sister he’d never had, in so many ways. Clint glanced at the clock hanging on the wall, it was already 4pm. They’d gone well over the requested six hours. “We should get up.” 

“You were the one that pointed out we haven’t slept in days.” Wanda grumbled. He slowly reached across her middle, knowing exactly where she was ticklish along her sides. “Don’t you dare.” 

Too late, he tickled her, holding her in place as she laughed and tried to squirm away. Wanda managed to turn around and shot him in the chest with a bit of magic, pushing him off the edge of the bed. She continued to giggle as Clint reappeared, half tangled in a blanket.

“Not fair.” He said, but he was also laughing. It was good to see Wanda laugh again. He shook the blanket off and started to lean across the bed so he could tickle her again.

There was a knock. “Are you two alright?” Steve’s voice came through the door.

“Yeah!” Clint hollered. The door cracked open and Steve poked his head in for a moment, got an eyeful of Clint without a shirt on leaning across the bed towards Wanda and retracted immediately. 

“What?” His voice rose an octave. “Are you doing?”

Wanda looked over at Clint and gave him the up down look. He waggled his eyebrows at her which sent her into another fit of giggles. He straightened up, grinning. “We’re taking a nap Cap, what does it look like we’re doing?” Clint said, walking over to the door and pulling it open.

Steve’s face was pale pink and he seemed unsure of where to look, but once he saw Clint had pants on he looked over Clint’s shoulder and saw Wanda on the bed, clearly completely clothed and barely containing her laughter. 

“Where’s your shirt?”

“Too hot.” Clint resisted the urge to make a ‘too sexy for my shirt’ joke, because he was certain that would go right over Steve’s head. And he wasn’t too sure if Wanda would get it either. Did  _ I’m Too Sexy _ make it over to Sokovia? Or Shrek 2?

“Well, put one on. Shuri wants to talk to Wanda.” 

Clint resisted the urge to sigh. Back to reality, back to work. He pulled a shirt out of the dresser while Wanda stretched and slid out of the bed. She was wearing a long red shirt and black leggings, true to form. Clint found a pair of sandals to wear, but Wanda had leather boots that she tugged on. 

“You okay?” Clint asked. 

Wanda looked at the floor for a moment. “Yes. Better, now that the collar is off.”

“Any weird side effects from that? Extra toes, the urge to eat dirt, anything?” Clint babbled slightly. “I probably should’ve gotten you checked out by a doctor. You’re probably still dehydrated-”

“Clint.” Wanda cut him off. “I am fine. Let’s see if I can help Steve’s friend.”

Clint followed Wanda out of the room, Steve and Sam were waiting in the hall, barely an inch away from each other. Sam looked exhausted, like he hadn’t stopped to take a nap like Clint and Wanda had. Or if he had, he hadn’t slept.

“This way.” Steve said, standing to attention. “The cryo chamber is on the other side of the citadel.”

Citadel. That was the word for the palace-not-palace. Steve led them out of their guest quarters and through the massive building. There were people everywhere, including the guards Clint had seen earlier. 

“They just let us wander free?” Clint asked, slightly suspicious.

“There are cameras everywhere.” Steve nodded up at one. Yeah, like Clint hadn’t seen those. And at least four blind spots already. “It’s safe to say we’re being watched. But T’Challa trusts me and you’re with me.”

There was a small underlying threat there, probably not intentional on Steve’s behalf. If Clint didn’t follow Steve, he probably would be under guard. 

They came to a white door. Steve pulled out a bracelet similar to T’Challa’s and touched one of the beads to a divet in the wall on the side. The door opened with a small hiss. It was a large white room, dominated on one side by windows that overlooked the city. But Clint didn’t look out at the view.

There he was. James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky. He looked asleep in a tube. Clint stayed on the fringes of the room while the others moved towards the frozen soldier. The Winter Soldier. When Natasha had told him that the Winter Soldier was not only A) not a myth, but also B) Cap’s long lost war buddy, Clint had thought she was fucking with him for a solid minute.

It was a strange world they lived in.

Bucky looked younger now, as many people did when they were asleep. He was also cleaner than the last time Clint had seen him. There was still frost over the glass, but Clint’s eyes could pick out the details. A grey strap across his chest. His hair was brushed away from his face. Clint realized with a jolt that he was good-looking, something Clint had barely noticed in Germany. Steve had said Bucky was popular with the ladies back in the day. A tiny part of Clint wondered if Bucky had been popular with the gentlemen too.

Of course even if he had been, that wouldn’t have been something they talked about back then. And regardless, it wasn’t something to think about now.

Clint kept at the edge of the room as Wanda talked with Steve and Shuri. He saw better from a distance and could hear them well enough. Natasha appeared at his side, as she often did.

“I was wondering if you’d show.” He said. She glanced over at him before flicking his shoulder.

“Now or when you were on the raft?”

“Both.” Clint crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, letting it take some of his weight. 

“We had a plan, it just took a little while to implement.” Natasha said softly. He could hear the regret in her voice. “Some of the heat needed to die down, we needed to get past Stark’s AI to get information on the raft. Or, we thought we did.” 

Clint raised an eyebrow and turned to Natasha. “What do you mean think?”

“Everyone assumed Tony would be helping keep you all locked up. But someone slipped us information.”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“I think it might have been Vision.” Natasha said.

“Hmm.” Clint processed that, turning back to look at Wanda. Natasha followed his eyes and there was an unspoken thought there. Wanda and the Vision were close. Had a sort of strange bond that stemmed in part from both being given powers by the stone in Vision’s head.

“Have you talked to Tony?” Clint asked after a long minute.

“No. Steve sent him a message and a flip phone.” Natasha said and Clint snickered.

“A flip phone? Seriously?”

“In case Tony wants to call.”

“Why not just send the number programmed into the phone? Why would you send a flip phone to a tech genius? He’s probably insulted.”

Natasha shrugged. “It’s Steve. Sending a phone felt right to him.”

“Yeah well.” Clint shook his head. “I’m betting Tony hasn’t called has he?”

“He needs time to heal. We all do.” Natasha said, her voice turning sharp. Clint realized Natasha was hurt. The Avengers had become family over the past few years. And this was a pretty epic divorce. Tony and Steve were like mom and dad, with the rest of them divided like children. 

“Come here.” Clint pulled Natasha in with one arm, giving her space to fight him if she wanted. Instead she leaned into him, touching her forehead to his shoulder for a long minute. “We’re still friends right?” He stage whispered. She huffed a laugh and pulled back.

“Depends on how hard you hit me.”

“Never again.” Clint said, and the words came out like a promise. Never again.

“I hope that doesn’t mean you’re not going to spar with me anymore.” Natasha teased. “You’ve been in lockup for a month, that’s no reason to get sloppy.”

Clint bit back his response. That he didn’t really want to train anymore. At least, not right now. He’d meant it when he said he was retired. There were enough heros in the world, they didn’t need his paleolithic weapon. He would’ve been happy to stay at the farm with Barney and his family for a while. But then Steve had called and said Wanda needed help, and now here they were.

“I see the anchors.” Wanda’s voice cut through Clint’s thoughts. She had her hands pressed to the frosted glass, red magic leaching from her, filling the chamber with tendrils of scarlet that wrapped around Bucky’s head. Clint and Natasha moved forward until they were part of the group surrounding the cryochamber.

“Can you remove them?” Steve asked.

“Yes, but it would be better if he was awake.” Wanda said, eyes still closed in concentration. “And it will take time. There are twelve of them, two more deeply embedded than the rest.”

“Twelve?” Steve said. “There were only ten words in the book Zola had.”

“Yes, I can see those. They’re interconnected, if I break the chain they won’t work anymore, but there could be side effects. Different words may set him off.” Wanda’s fingers twisted and the magic pulled away from Bucky, she opened her eyes to turn to the group. “I will write down the other two trigger phrases so we can be sure to avoid them.” 

Shuri handed Wanda something akin to a StarkPad so she could write down the phrases. Steve frowned. “So what do we do?”

“I think…” Wanda finished typing and handed the pad back to Shuri. She paused with her words, clearly thinking about what she wanted to do. “I think he should be awoken. As I remove each anchor, it will be like pulling an arrow from the body.” Wanda glanced at Clint as she said arrow. “If I pull them all at once, he could bleed out. But if we go one at a time and give him time to heal between each one, he could have his mind back.”

“So we have to refreeze him eleven times?” Steve looked horrified. 

“No, the freezing will only prolong the healing. He needs to be awake.”

“I’d rather not have him here if there’s a chance he can be triggered again. We’ve seen the footage of the Soldier.” T’Challa said. “My people must be protected.” 

“He could be taken to one of the remote villages.” Shuri offered. “There are places where he would be away from the majority of people.”

“So we take him there.” Steve said.

“No.” Wanda said. “Steve, I am sorry, but one of the two anchors is directly tied to you.” 

“What?” Steve froze.

“I’m surprised you didn’t trigger the Soldier by accident while you were with him. That is why it wasn’t in the book. It could only be triggered by you.”

“So I can’t be around him.” 

“Not until I remove all the anchors and the wounds heal.” Wanda looked apologetic, her eyes were sad. She knew she was letting Steve down, taking away the only remaining tie to his past. 

“I’ll go with them.” Sam offered. “I can keep an eye on him and Wanda-”

“No.” Clint finally stepped into the conversation. “I will.”

“I’ve interacted with him more.” Sam said, but it was half-hearted. Clint saw the way he kept himself angled towards Steve, how he kept his eyes on Steve when nobody else was looking.

“Anyone else here have first-hand experience with mind control?” Clint asked sarcastically. “I’m an assassin with a weapon Barnes probably doesn’t have much experience with. If you can give me a bow with tranq darts, I can keep them on hand in case anything goes south. And Wanda’s not going anywhere without me for the time being.”

The people around him fidgeted slightly, looking between each other as if to see if anyone else had any better ideas. T’Challa broke the silence. “There is a village with a research farm near the river. We have not used the farm in a few years, but it can easily be reopened. Most of the people there are shepherds, they don’t spend much time at home. It is remote, but safe. We can send you there.”

Once a king says it, Clint supposed that was like some kind of royal decree.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and comments on the last chapter! They’re fuel for the fire that keeps me writing. This chapter is a little shorter because the next one is gonna be a bit of a monster and I wanted to get this out.


	3. Preparation and Waking

They decided to wake Bucky in a few days to give them time to prepare. Steve wanted to see the place that they would be taking Bucky. Sam of course went wherever Steve went. T’Challa also went to look over the building to determine what might be needed. Clint, Natasha, and Wanda stayed in the Citadel. 

Shuri had asked Wanda to demonstrate some of her powers for her in her lab, wanting to gather scans and readings. Clint had been ready to say absolutely not on Wanda’s behalf. But Wanda had looked at Shuri, done that slight head tilt, and agreed. 

“Did you look in her head?” Clint asked later when they had returned to the guest wing. 

“Briefly.” Wanda confirmed. “She’s curious, that is all.”

“You don’t have to.” Clint said. “You can tell her to fuck off.”

Wanda smiled at his protectiveness. “I do not mind. Her mind is… interesting. Young.”

“You’re young.” Clint teased.

“Yes, but I don’t feel that way.” Wanda murmured.

And really, Wanda didn’t act her age, did she? She was seventeen. She should be in high school, flirting with boys or girls or whatever she wanted. Going to prom. Thinking about college. But none of that was in the cards for her. Hydra had taken that away. But even before that, the war in Sokovia had taken that away. She never interacted with people her own age, especially now that Pietro was gone. 

So, when Shuri showed up after dinner on their second night with a small projector and the supplies to make shell necklaces and bracelets, Clint went for a walk to leave them to it. Let them have their teenage girl time. 

He went looking for the highest spot he could access. It took him an hour to figure out access to the roof, then he free solo climbed up a tower in the southeast corner until he was at the top, wrapped around a spire several hundred feet from the ground. The wind whipped around him, but Clint knew how to anchor himself, he could easily hold the position for hours before it would even occur to him he might be tired.

Clint watched the city, watched the lights in the other structures. The people in the nearby offices and in the streets below. The ebb and flow of traffic, more similar to that of Chicago than New York or Mumbai. He breathed in, and slowly exhaled, feeling some of the tension in his system leave. With nobody to watch him, knowing he was high up in the dark, he let some of the emotion from the past month wash over him. 

Anger. At Steve, at Tony. At General Ross. At all the people responsible for putting them in prison. They were goddamn superheroes. They just wanted to protect people and they’d been imprisoned for it. 

_ No good deed goes unpunished _ . Clint let the bit of the broadway song run through his head a few times. Tony had gotten the team tickets to see Wicked after Ultron as a team bonding experience. The Gershwin Theatre didn’t have box seats, so Tony bought an entire performance. When Steve and Natasha found out they’d frowned. Even bringing Rhodey and Pepper and anyone else they could think of, the theatre could seat close to 2000 people. So they’d anonymously given tickets away to local theatre programs, specifically giving them to schools that didn’t have much of a budget or that primarily had lower income students.

They’d sectioned off an area on the upper mezzanine and the theatre filled with theater and acting students, all thrilled to be seeing the show. And it hadn’t taken long for them to notice the Avengers in their sectioned off mezzanine, so several had come up to say thank you and ask for autographs or selfies after the show. It had been a good day. 

The memory felt tainted now with bitterness. Loss. Clint had Barney, sure, but the Avengers had also become family over the past few years. Hell, he  _ liked _ Tony, and understood his perspective. Clint had declared himself retired for a reason, not wanting to take sides.

Barney was going to kill him. So was Laura. He needed to find a way to get a message to them, let them know he was alright. He’d ask Natasha before they left Birnin Zana, the capital city. Clint was picking up pieces of information about Wakanda. The female guards with the shaved heads he saw everywhere were called the Dora Milaje. They were led by Okoye, who had a rough exterior, but seemed fond of Shuri. He couldn’t decide if it would be totally awesome to watch her and Natasha spar or utterly terrifying. Probably both.

_ Think of the Devil, _ Clint thought as a door opened beneath him, spilling white light across the rooftop. Okoye came out, holding her spear-like weapon. 

“Mr. Barton, you have been up there long enough.” She said. Clint sighed. He’d maybe been up here for an hour. Two, tops. But he climbed down.

Okoye stared him down for a moment before stepping away from the door and gesturing that he should go inside. “Ms. Romanoff said you should meet her in the gym.”

“God, I do not want to let Natasha wipe the floor with me right now.” Clint muttered, walking past her through the door. Okoye smiled for a moment before closing the door behind them. 

“She is quite capable.” Okoye said as she followed Clint back through the building.

“Deadly capable.” Clint said. “Do not underestimate her.”

“I can assure you, I do not.” Okoye said without a hint of humor. Girl power, that’s for sure. They all scared the ever living shit out of Clint. He had a healthy respect for all people that were underestimated, regardless of their gender. He knew what it was like. People took one look at him with a goddamn bow in his hands and practically laughed in his face.

The gym was a huge room, around two stories high, with equipment that Clint was used to seeing. Weights. Mats. Punching bags. Natasha was stretching in a squared off section of padded floor, her red hair partially braided to keep it out of her face. Clint toed off his sandals and plopped down next to her. Okoye left, having made her delivery.

“Did you get the climbing out of your system?” Natasha asked. 

“I guess.” Clint meant to just lie on the ground while Natasha stretched, but she raised an expectant eyebrow at him, pointing her toes and dropping her stomach to the floor as she gripped her heels. Clint mirrored her, feeling parts of his spine pop as they went through a series of leg and back stretches in silence.

Natasha dropped into a backbend, which Clint copied. After holding that for a minute she folded to her knees, but he kicked up into a handstand. His longer shirt fell into his face, and he knew his stomach was bare to her, so he pulled one hand up to pull the shirt off entirely. Then switched his balance to the other hand so he could flick it at Natasha.

It felt good to have the space to do this. Natasha seemed to know that he didn’t want to spar. Or maybe she also didn’t want to try and punch her friends for fun right now. She smiled as she threw his shirt to the side and balanced forward on her hands, keeping her legs curled up towards her stomach.

Clint was facing away from the door, but he heard it open and twisted himself down so he was rightside up, still balanced on his hands, with his legs out in a V in front of him. Natasha held her own pose, but brought her head up to watch Sam and Steve walk in.

“Are you doing yoga?” Sam asked. Steve was just in front of him. Clint bobbed his head.

“I guess. A lot of circus acrobatics are kind of like yoga.” Clint held the position for another few seconds, then slowly brought his legs out and dropped into a plank. He relaxed, feeling some of his muscles complain. He should’ve done more stretching while they were on The Raft.

“Farm’s ready for you.” Steve said, cutting to the chase. 

“Is it actually a farm?” Clint asked. “Do I need to milk cows?” He pulled himself into a sitting position, crossing his legs. Natasha did the same.

“No, just some goats. They already have people taking care of them. You won’t need to do anything.” Sam said. He strode forward and sat on the padded floor with them. Steve looked uncomfortable for a moment.

“Come on.” Sam patted the ground next to him. “Sit your ass down. God knows you haven’t for the last two days.” He turned to face Natasha and Clint. “Damn idiot kept pacing around the plane.” 

“What’s going on Steve?” Natasha asked. Steve finally sat with them; they formed a slightly lopsided circle.

“The news about breaking you all out of The Raft finally broke.”

“And Tony hasn’t called.” Sam piped in.

“Do you expect him to call?” Clint said.

“I don’t… I don’t know. I thought, maybe he would.” Steve stumbled over the words. “I apologized.”

“Apologized for what exactly?” Clint asked. “Yeah, the fight in Germany sucked. But it was Vision who hurt Rhodey. What happened after you two got away? Did you get to Siberia and kill the other winter soldiers?”

Sam looked at Steve expectantly. Steve’s shoulders hunched forward slightly and Clint recognized that motion. Shame. ”The soldiers are dead,” he said. But he didn’t say anything else. Clint knew that wasn’t the end of the story. Based on Sam’s body language, Steve hadn’t told him the whole story yet either. 

“And?” Natasha prodded. But Steve shook his head.

“That’s all that matters. The farm is ready. We can wake Bucky in the morning, explain to him what’s going on, and then you’ll go. Natasha, are you going with?”

“For a little while. Who knows what kind of trouble you’ll get into if I’m gone for too long.” 

Steve frowned. “There’s no trouble-”

“There are still factions of Hydra operating. There’s no way you’re not going after them. And there’s also no way I’m letting you go alone.”

Clint did not want to hear this. He very much did not want to hear this. “Going after Hydra breaks the accords-”

“We’re not Avengers anymore.” Steve said. 

“You’re an enhanced individual. That falls under the accords.” Clint had actually read the damn thing on the flight to Germany. Or parts of it anyway.

“I’m not.” Sam said. “I’m a lot slower than him.” 

“How many people do you know with wings like that? Technology is an enhancement. Look at Tony.” 

“Clint, it doesn’t matter. We’ve already broken the accords. We can’t break them more.” Steve said. “You can’t expect me not to go after Hydra. Not after everything they’ve done to Bucky.”

And Clint couldn’t. Not really. But that didn’t mean he had to like it. He stood up, breaking the circle and stalking past Steve to leave the gym. Nobody followed him out.

*

The following morning Clint packed the few items of clothing he’d been given into a bag. When he came out into the living area, Shuri was waiting with Wanda. 

“Mr. Barton, I have some things for you.” Shuri said with a grin. She held up first a pair of leather boots. “Wanda told me you would like some real shoes.”

“Bless you.” Clint said, already throwing the sandals aside to pull on the boots. He could run barefoot with the rest of them, but he hated getting cuts on his feet. They took forever to heal.

“As well as this. As you requested.” Shuri handed him a gleaming black recurve bow, and Clint had to resist the urge to hug it to his chest. He tentatively flipped it around, testing the balance and then pulled the string to test the draw. It was lighter than the bow Tony had made him. Probably 65 pounds. He could pull up to 85, but he didn’t mind the lighter draw. It could be adjusted. 

Clint relaxed his arm, safely bringing the bow down. Shuri held out a hip quiver with black arrows, half with gold fletching, half with purple. He pulled one of the gold out, rolling it between his fingers. Good balance and liquid in the arrowhead. “Tranq?” He asked. 

“Half of them. The other half are standard bulletpoints. I’m afraid none of them explode like the ones Mr. Stark made for you.”

“That’s okay.” Clint said. “Doesn’t need to be fancy to work.” He slid the arrow back into the quiver and clipped the quiver onto his hip. It felt good to be properly armed again. Wanda watched him knowingly. He flashed her a grin.

“Anything cool for you?”

“Shuri already gave me my weapons back on the first day.” Wanda smiled, letting red magic flit around her fingers for a few moments before waving it away. She also had one of the communication bracelets that the Wakandans all seemed to have. Clint had one as well, but he preferred to keep it in his pocket.

“Let’s go wake Mr. Barnes.” Shuri said, clasping her hands together. Clint and Wanda grabbed their bags. Clint kept the bow in his hand, letting the familiar sensation of the grip settle something inside him. They went back to the room where Bucky was in cryo. 

Steve was leaning against the wall directly across from the cryochamber, arms crossed over his chest and brows close together. Sam stood next to him, but he didn’t look nearly as uptight. T’Challa was near the chamber, and Shuri went straight to him to chatter away and start pushing buttons. Natasha was also near the chamber, watching everything with a careful eye.

Clint followed Wanda over to the cryochamber. “We will explain to him what’s happening.” She said. “I’d rather Steve not speak as much as possible. I won’t be able to find the exact trigger phrase until I’m pulling the anchor out. Anything could set him off.” Clint’s hand tightened reflexively on the bow.

“Beginning the final steps unfreezing process.” Shuri announced. “It should only take a minute or two.”

Clint watched the ice fade away from the glass, condensation forming droplets of water that started to slide down. Red tendrils flowed from Wanda’s hands and she touched the glass near Bucky’s head. She closed her eyes, and Clint could see she was searching.

“He’s awake.” She said after several seconds. Her eyes and Bucky’s eyes opened at the same time. Wanda stepped away from the glass as it rose. Clint could see the rise and fall of Bucky’s chest as he took several deep breaths. Shuri removed the strap across his chest.

“Welcome back Mr. Barnes.” She said softly. Bucky’s eyes darted around the room, pausing on Wanda, then on Clint and his bow, before finally landing on Steve.

“что тут происходит?” The Russian fell from his lips and Clint had an arrow drawn before anyone could respond, pointing it directly at Bucky’s throat.

Natasha responded. “теперь ты в безопасности.” It took Clint a moment to translate in his head, his Russian was a little rusty. Bucky had asked what was going on. Natasha told him he was safe.

Bucky looked confused and shook his head briefly, like he was trying to shake the Russian language out of his head. 

“He’s fine.” Wanda said, glancing at Clint’s drawn weapon. “He’s in control.”

“You can’t know that.” Bucky said. The English made Clint relax the string in his hand and bring the bow down.

“Trust me. She can.” Clint said. Bucky stared at Clint, and Clint met his gaze without flinching. Christ, Bucky had one of the most intense blue stares Clint had ever seen. A small part of Clint wanted to flinch, but he held his ground. Finally Bucky nodded.

Time to explain the plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to my research, Wanda is around 16-17 in Civil War, and Shuri is 16 in Black Panther, putting them very close in age. And yes, I know that Clint’s draw weight is supposedly 250 pounds, which is batshit insane, so I’ve gone with a slightly more realistic draw weight.


	4. Longing

“This is a farm?”

Clint stood in front of a huge… house? Mansion? It was three stories tall, just a few hundred feet inside the camouflaged shield that they’d come through a couple of days ago. Certainly didn’t look like anything that belonged back in Iowa. Where were the cornfields? There was a village on the other side of a stream over a hill, effectively hidden from view. It had the feel of being in the middle of nowhere.

Safe. Remote. That was what they asked for, wasn’t it?

Bucky had taken the news pretty well. In fact he’d almost looked relieved that Steve wouldn’t be coming with them. Wanda estimated a week between the removal of each anchor; they’d be here at least three months. Natasha would stay for the first month before going back to the city, and there wasn’t exactly a plan for how long Shuri would stay. 

Shuri bounded ahead of them, unlocking the doors and disappearing into the house. Wanda and Natasha followed her, while Bucky trailed behind Natasha. Clint had stopped as soon as he was off the ship to gape at the building in front of them.

When Okoye followed them off the ship into the house with a bag of her own, Clint had been surprised. “Shouldn’t you be protecting the King?” he asked, finally moving forward.

“I protect the Royal Family,” Okoye said. “T’Challa has instructed that as long as Shuri remains here, I will be here as well.” She pointedly did not look at Bucky as she said this, but his shoulders still hunched forward a bit. Clint didn’t feel the need to argue that literally everyone here could protect Shuri, he suspected including Shuri herself. 

The ground floor had a large lab that Shuri quickly took over, as well as a living room area with a large holographic television and a kitchen. The second floor held more labs and storage areas, while the top floor had living quarters. They weren’t as nice as the rooms had been in the Citadel, but still quite comfortable. Each room had two single beds but there were enough of them that nobody had to double up if they didn’t want to.

That didn’t stop Wanda from claiming the second bed in Clint’s room. Okoye also shared with Shuri, but Bucky and Natasha took their own rooms. 

After throwing his bag onto the bed Clint turned to Wanda. “Lunch? Then you can do your thing?” Wanda nodded and followed him back down to the kitchen. Clint looked through the various cupboards and fridge before deciding on sandwiches, as that would be easy enough. Wanda took up a spot at the counter, using her powers to use a knife to slice fruit. 

Clint snickered when he saw her moving the knife delicately with her magic.

“What?”

“Last time I saw you with a knife you nearly sent it through my head.”

Wanda flipped the knife with a twist of her fingers and sent it towards Clint’s forehead again, mirroring what had happened in the Avengers headquarters. It stopped at the same point, a hair’s breadth from his skin. “I never would have hurt you.” She said.

“Knew that then. Know it now.” Clint said, he raised his hand and pushed it gently aside. It drifted in the air, red reflecting off the metal.

After several minutes the others came down as well. Shuri snatched pieces of fruit away from the bowl, while Okoye and Natasha watched with amusement. Bucky hovered in a corner, not speaking. Clint set two giant platters of sandwiches on the counter next to the bowl.

“Help yourselves.” 

“Clint, why did you make so much?” Okoye asked, surveying the mountain of food in front of them. 

“Bucky’s a supersoldier right? He’s going to eat just as much as Steve.” Clint said, not bothering with a plate, just holding his own sandwich and leaning against the counter. Everyone looked over at Bucky, who hadn’t moved yet from his corner. There was a pause as they waited for him to respond.

“I’m not quite as…” Bucky tried to gesture with both hands, but aborted the movement when he remembered he only had the one. “Much? As Steve. His metabolism is higher than mine.” He looked guilty, like he wasn’t rising to expectations.

Clint shrugged. “So we save the leftovers. Midnight snack.” Natasha rolled her eyes and shoved a plate at him. 

“You’re getting crumbs on the floor.”

“Has anyone studied your metabolic rate and done a direct comparison to that of Mr. Rogers?” Shuri asked.

Bucky shrugged with one shoulder and finally approached the counter full of food. “Hydra probably.” Wanda paled slightly at the mention of Hydra. Bucky awkwardly loaded a plate and took it to the actual dining table outside the kitchen. 

They all ate fairly quickly. There was half a platter of sandwiches leftover, but all the fruit was eaten. Natasha took care of the clean-up. Clint felt the comfort of a familiar pattern. Natasha hated cooking, so Clint took care of it as long as she cleaned it up. She often told him he couldn’t properly clean anyway. At least there was a dishwasher, so everything didn’t have to be done by hand.

After the meal everyone paused. They all knew what came next, and that it might not be easy. Natasha hovered over the counter, wiped clean. 

“How’re we doing this?” Bucky asked.

“There is a safe room.” Shuri said. “This way.” 

Shuri led them downstairs into a sub-level. There was a room that reminded Clint of the glass box that had been designed to hold the Hulk on the helicarrier, but had ultimately held Loki instead. 

“You have heart.” Loki whispered in his ear. Clint swallowed and breathed in, holding the breath for a moment before releasing it. Not now.

“In case there is a problem.” Shuri was saying, gesturing at a set of door controls set into a console. Bucky nodded, seeming satisfied. 

“I’ll need to be in the room with him.” Wanda said. “The rest of you can stay out here-”

“Like hell.” Clint said. “Let me grab my bow.” He’d left it upstairs in his room.

“Clint, even if he is triggered, I can handle him.” Wanda said, but Clint shook his head.

“We need tranqs in there. We shouldn’t underestimate The Winter Soldier.” 

“He’s right.” Everyone swiveled to look at Bucky. His hand was tucked into his pocket, but his jaw was set in a grim line. “If something goes wrong you’ll need more than one person to take me down. Even with all your powers.” 

Bucky locked eyes with Clint, and from clear across the room, Clint immediately knew what Bucky wanted to say to him. You all need to be protected from me. Clint knew that look, he’d seen it in the mirror for months after Loki. 

“I’ll grab my bow.” Clint said. He ran upstairs to grab the bow from its case as well as the quiver. By the time he came back down, Bucky and Wanda were in the glass room and Shuri was standing ready at a console, already doing sciency things. Natasha had her arms crossed at the door into the glass room, while Okoye stood halfway between Natasha and Shuri. 

Clint passed Natasha to go into the room, but before he crossed the threshold she grabbed his arm. “If something goes wrong… don’t underestimate him. Even without the arm, he’s deadly.” She murmured. 

Clint nodded. “When have I ever underestimated someone?”

“Jaipur.” She said, with a slight smirk.

“You’re hilarious Nat.” Clint said, pushing forward into the room. The door slid shut behind him and sealed with a slight whine. 

Bucky was pacing behind a chair, while Wanda watched from a chair opposite the empty one. Clint touched Wanda’s shoulder. “Ready?”

“As soon as he is.” Wanda said. 

Bucky huffed, paused, and then stopped to grip the chair with his hand. “If something happens, you knock me out and then you get out.”

“You will be fine.” Wanda assured. “I’ve done this before.”

“On your own mind.” Bucky said.

“And Pietro’s.” Wanda said. Bucky raised a questioning eyebrow. “My brother. Hydra tried to control us the way they’ve controlled you. Every mind is different, as I pull the anchor you may find yourself lost in the memories of how each anchor was put there. This is not an easy process.” 

“Didn’t think it would be.” Bucky muttered. He chewed his bottom lip for a moment, hair falling into his face. Clint felt the urge to push it back, maybe tie it back in a ponytail for him. He probably couldn’t do that one handed, could he? 

“When you’re ready, you can sit and I’ll start.” Wanda said, her voice smooth and even. Bucky looked down at the chair.

“Do I have to?”

“Have to do this?” Clint asked. That was why they were here in the first place, what the fuck-

“Do I have to sit in the chair?” Bucky said, cutting off Clint’s internal questioning. “They… they put me in a chair.” 

“It is likely you will pass out or lose consciousness. I didn’t want you to hurt yourself, but no. You don’t have to sit in the chair.” Wanda said. “We can stand.”

“What if you just sat on the floor?” Clint suggested as Wanda stood and pushed the chair towards a wall. “Criss cross applesauce or whatever.” Bucky shoved the chair in front of him towards the wall as well and looked to Wanda.

“Sure?”

“That will work.” Wanda confirmed, sliding to the floor and crossing her legs. Bucky did the same about a foot in front of her. Clint stayed where he was, standing over them, bow in hand. He drew one of the tranq arrows and nocked it, but didn’t draw. 

“Ready?” Wanda asked. Bucky nodded and she looked up at Clint. He glanced at the three women outside their box, watching. Natasha nodded at him and Clint took a steadying breath.

“Ready.”

Wanda raised her hands, red mist already flowing from her palms. The magic reached out and curled around Bucky’s head. “I will pull the first word out.” She said. Bucky closed his eyes, teeth gritted together. Wanda twisted both wrists and pulled her hands toward her, like she was physically pulling her own magic. Her fingers were clenched and her eyes closed in concentration. 

Clint ran his thumb across the fletching of the arrow, reassuring himself that he was prepared for something to go wrong. For several long minutes Bucky and Wanda remained like that on the floor, Wanda’s hands slowly inching closer to her body. 

Then Bucky screamed, high and sharp. Not just a scream of physical pain, but mental anguish. Clint drew the bow, let the string anchor on his cheek. Wanda sharply pulled her hands to her chest, her magic came away from Bucky and retreated to her. She gasped and opened her eyes.

Bucky hunched forward, cradling his forehead in his hand, blocking his face as his hair fell down. He was panting like he’d run a marathon. But after a few seconds, he looked up and looked directly at Clint. 

“Longing.” Bucky said, then he passed out, slipping to the floor.

“Wanda?” Clint asked, not relaxing the string.

“It’s out. He’s fine.” She confirmed. Clint finally let the tension of the string loosen, returning the arrow to his quiver. The door to the room opened and Clint went to his knees next to Bucky, checking his pulse on instinct. Fast, but strong. His skin was warm under Clint’s fingers. He couldn’t stop himself from finally brushing some of Bucky’s hair away from his face.

“How long will he be out?”

“I don’t know.” 

“We can bring a cot in.” Okoye suggested.

“No.” Clint shook his head. “He shouldn’t wake up in here. Nat.” Clint held out his bow. She took it from him so he could get his arms under Bucky. He stood carefully, damn super soldier was heavy, but not nearly as heavy as he would be with the arm. 

Clint took Bucky upstairs to the room Bucky had claimed and set him on the bed carefully, making sure his head was set on a pillow and grabbing a blanket to throw over him. Probably unnecessary considering the warmth of Wakanda, even with air conditioning, but something in Clint wanted to take care of Bucky. 

The others had things to take care of. Shuri had experiments she wanted to run, Okoye went to call T’Challa and update him and Steve. Wanda needed sleep, she was exhausted. Natasha handed Clint his bow after he’d made sure Bucky was comfortably arranged on the bed.

“Who carried me after you knocked me out?” Clint asked, not looking at her. He was watching the rise and fall of Bucky’s chest.

“Steve. Helped me strap you down too.” Natasha said. “He doesn’t need that though.”

“I know.”

“Clint.” Natasha paused. “Are you okay?”

“Nothing about this is okay.”

“We know that. I’m asking if you’re okay.” 

Clint shrugged. “If my eyes change color hit me really hard on the head.”

“Cognitive recalibration.” Natasha confirmed. Clint sat on the bed opposite Bucky, bow cradled in his hands. “I’ll check on you in an hour.” She said, hovering near the doorway. 

“Thank you.” Clint said, not just for the check-in. Natasha knew of course. She always knew when he wasn’t saying everything. She left the room, leaving Clint to watch over Bucky.


	5. Chapter 5

He was in a dark bar, an old speak-easy that had stayed underground even after prohibition was lifted. Men lined up against the bar, one grinned at him before taking his hands and leading him onto the dance floor. They moved around each other, fabric brushing against skin and there was a strong tug in his chest.

Electricity coursed through his head, lighting every nerve on fire, burning him out. Burning until there was nothing but complacency left.

“Sergeant Barnes.” A mostly bald man with a thick German accent leaned over him with a smile. “You will be the new fist of Hydra.” 

Longing

There was another surge of electricity and Bucky woke with a gasp. He shoved himself up and tried to stand, but his balance was off and he lurched to the left, vertigo making the dark room spin. 

“Woah, easy.” Someone grabbed him around the side and helped him sit on the floor without hitting his head. Bucky glimpsed blonde hair and for a moment thought it was Steve. But no, the hair was a darker shade and far too messy. 

“Barton.” Bucky said. 

Not a question, but Clint still confirmed. “Yeah. Just me. You’re in Wakanda. Wanda successfully pulled out the first anchor, word, thing. I think everyone is sleeping, Nat said goodnight a couple of hours ago. It’s, uh probably like, 2 in the morning? There’s gotta be a clock built into these bracelets. Unless it’s a Spy Kids kind of thing.” Clint seemed to realize he still had a hand on Bucky’s side and withdrew it to fiddle with the bracelet around his wrist.

“Kimoyo beads.” Bucky supplied. Clint looked confused until Bucky nodded at the bracelet. 

“You’d think someone would’ve told me that by now.” Clint said, a small image projected from one of the beads. “9:15pm Eastern Time,” he read. “What time zone are we in technically?”

“West Africa, GMT plus one.” Bucky said. 

“2:15 then.” Clint said. He waved a hand through the projection, watching it flicker around his fingers as he tried to shut it off. He gave up after a minute and lowered his hand, the projection skewed across the floor, distorting and twisting so it was unrecognizable. 

“How’re you doing?” Clint asked after a minute. “How’s the head feel?”

Bucky paused to access himself. His breathing was actually at a normal rate, he felt slightly sweaty and tired, but the initial panic had been erased by Clint’s bumbling and questions. “Fine.” 

“Do you, uh, need help getting up?” 

Bucky shook his head, hair falling into his eyes. He brushed it aside with his hand before pushing himself up. His stomach gurgled uncomfortably as he rose.

“Come on, you missed dinner.” Clint picked up his bow and quiver and Bucky followed him downstairs into the kitchen. Bucky sat at the counter as Clint filled a glass with water from the tap and set it in front of him before busying himself with things out of the fridge. 

Bucky picked up the glass of room temperature water and drained it. Most of the sweat on his skin had dried, making him feel slightly tacky, but the water helped. 

“Little past midnight snack.” Clint said, putting the plate of leftover sandwiches in front of Bucky. The projection from his Kimoyo beads had finally closed. “Shuri and Wanda made some kind of meatloaf thing for dinner, there weren’t any leftovers but I can cut up more fruit or something too.” 

“This is fine.” Bucky said, already taking a sandwich from the plate. It was slightly soggy from being left to sit, but it was far from the worst thing he’d ever eaten. Clint pulled a tub of ice cream out of the freezer and started eating straight out of the carton with a spoon. 

“You don’t have to stay up with me. You should sleep.” Bucky said after they’d eaten in silence for a few minutes. 

“Don’t sleep much.”

“Why?” 

Clint shrugged, spoon hanging out of his mouth. They fell back into silence. It was strangely comfortable though. Bucky didn’t feel the need to try and talk and Clint seemed content to let him eat. 

Natasha appeared shortly after Bucky had finished the sandwiches and set the plate in the sink. Bucky filled his glass with water again, but was drinking it slowly.

“There’s a call for you.” Natasha said to Clint, holding out a blocky satellite phone. Clint set the ice cream aside to take the phone from her. 

“Me?”

“Barney’s been throwing a fit at Tony and somehow that got through to us.” She said. Clint grinned, but that faded into a grimace. 

“How mad is Barney?”

“Laura’s on the line right now.” Natasha said, and Clint took the phone.

“Hey Laura.” He said into the receiver before walking down the hall. “How’re things?”

Bucky didn’t need super-soldier hearing to hear the shriek on the other end before Clint shut the door. 

“Girlfriend?” Bucky asked as Natasha picked up the ice cream to read the side. 

“Sister-in-law.” Natasha responded. 

Bucky’s mind flickered to the image of a young girl with dark brown hair. Rebecca. She’d shrieked at him in the same way more than a few times. He remembered braiding her hair before he shipped out. 

She was dead now. 

“She’s mad that he’s aiding international fugitives?” Bucky said with a good amount of self-loathing.

“Mad that he is an international fugitive.” Natasha corrected. “He retired when the Sokovia accords were presented. Didn’t want to take a side.” She pulled Clint's spoon out of the tub and for a moment seemed to contemplate just eating straight out of it like he had, but then pulled a bowl out of a cupboard.

“Until Steve forced him to.”

“Steve and Tony forced him to. Tony was keeping Wanda confined and Clint didn’t like that much. He wasn’t going to be good at being retired anyway.” Natasha frowned. She ended up scooping the rest of the ice cream into the bowl and shrugged before tossing the carton into the trash. “I doubt his family would mind if he’d just told them what he was doing when he left.”

Bucky turned the information about Clint over in his mind, then wondered why he was so interested. He skimmed his eyes over Natasha to distract himself. “I shot you.” He realized.

“Almost eight years ago.” She raised an eyebrow, as if to say so?

“I’m sorry.” Bucky grunted, now looking at the counter. There were a few crumbs he should wipe up, but he pushed them around with his hand. His one hand, it would be a lot harder to shoot anyone at least with just the one. He hadn’t seen any handguns around and he couldn’t exactly draw Clint’s bow one handed.

The bowl was set in front of him with an extra spoon. “You took out your target, but you didn’t kill me.” Bucky watched as Natasha took a bite of the ice cream. “You could’ve, and based on the files I saw, you should’ve. You were punished for taking him out the way you did.”

Bucky’d been punished a lot. Particularly when Rumlow had been involved. The man had a sadistic streak a mile wide. Bucky didn’t respond, but he did take the spoon and take a bite of the ice cream. It was almost sickeningly sweet, vanilla with ribbons of chocolate fudge. Natasha didn’t mind his silence. 

They’d just finished the bowl when Clint came back in and handed the phone to Natasha. “Apparently your godson is having trouble with potty training.” 

Natasha took the phone and set it on the counter. “Of course he is, he’s related to you.”

“Did you eat all my ice cream?” 

“James helped.” Natasha said, taking the bowl and spoons to the sink. Bucky started slightly, nobody called him James, but it did seem right coming from her.

“Betrayal.” Clint said, but there wasn’t any heat in his voice. He just sounded tired. 

“Go to bed ястреб.” Natasha said. “I’ll stay with him.” 

Clint looked ready to argue, but Natasha’s eyes narrowed and he picked his bow from the counter without comment. Bucky watched him trudge to the stairs before turning back to Natasha. 

“What do we do now?” He asked. 

“There are books you could read. There’s a tablet you can peruse the internet if you want. I’ll be taking a walk.”

“Thought you were going to be watching me.” Bucky said. 

“I have a feeling you’ll be going with me. I’m checking our perimeter, that village shouldn’t be any trouble, but I want to make sure nobody is getting curious and deciding to wander nearby.” Natasha started walking towards the front entrance, Bucky didn’t hesitate to follow. 

“Are you armed?” He asked as they stepped into the cool evening. Thousands of stars glittered in the sky above them, the moon was only half full, but that was plenty of light to see Natasha roll her eyes at him.

“You tell me.” 

There were at least two knives on her he was sure of, and possibly a third in her boot. It seemed rude to say anything else, so he followed her. 

They walked to the edge of the village, which was silent except for the occasional bleat of a goat or cough from within a home. Natasha found a tree to climb and scampered up into the highest boughs. Bucky leaned against the tree and settled into an observance mode. 

They stayed there as the sun rose and the village came to life, people coming out to speak to each other and go about their daily routines. There were more children than Bucky was sure he was comfortable being near, but none seemed to be paying particular attention to the path that would lead to the Wakandan “farm” they were staying at. 

After several hours Natasha dropped to the ground in front of him. He watched her carefully, figuring it would be time to head back. He didn’t expect the words that came out of her mouth.

“Race you.” 

She took off, disappearing into the underbrush. He was stunned for a moment, race her? Race her back? Why? But then he started to run too. 

He could hear her footsteps ahead of him for a minute, but then the sound vanished. Still, he knew where the house was and he kept running, slightly lopsided from the missing weight of his arm, but faster than most people without super soldier serum. 

Bucky broke through the trees to the clearing around the house but didn’t see Natasha. He slowed, looking for her red hair only to hear a soft laugh behind him. He whirled and there she was, standing two feet away at the same break in the woods he had just run through, hand resting on a hip that was slightly jutting forward.

“Do you spar?” She asked. 

“With one arm?” 

“Why not?” 

He should have said no, but the idea wasn’t a bad one. He paused to consider it long enough for her to apparently decide his answer and she launched herself at him. 

The fight started just slow enough that Bucky was able to keep his feet beneath him, but Natasha was soon pushing at his weak points. Namely his lost sense of balance. He went down to one knee at one point, but used that to grab her ankle and tug her towards the ground. 

They grappled for a minute until Natasha gained the upper hand and had him facedown with her knee in his back. He slapped the ground with his hand, indicating his tap out and she let him up. He rolled over, catching his breath for a minute while she picked dirt out of her fingernails. 

When she was satisfied her nails were clean enough she reached out a hand. “Again?” She seemed determined to push, but to also show him that he had a choice. 

He grabbed her wrist and flung her behind him, they both rolled to their feet and began again, Bucky’s balance began to even out and he was able to hold her off for longer and longer. And even with the months of being frozen, he still had better endurance. 

After at least an hour they seemed to be fairly evenly matched. He blocked her jab at his side, twisting away and kicking out at her legs that she danced away from. 

Then a wall of red energy flickered up between them. 

“Nat!” Wanda yelled from the house, the magic pouring from her palms. 

Bucky just had time to raise his hand to show that he didn’t mean any actual harm as the energy curled like a whip and wrapped around him before lifting him off his feet.

“It’s okay!” Natasha yelled back. “Put him down!” 

“He was attacking you!” Wanda said, stalking forward while keeping Bucky floating in mid-air. He wanted to be put down, but he knew there was no point in trying to fight something he couldn’t even properly grab. That and he wanted to be as non-threatening for the person that would be pulling each of Hydra’s triggers out of his head. 

“We’re sparring. It’s fine, I promise.” Natasha said, still recovering her breath. Wanda looked up at Bucky, a small part of him wanted to grin, but instead he gave her a small wave. She released the magic, letting him drop back to the ground. 

“You seem to be feeling better.” Wanda said. Bucky rolled his neck and nodded. 

“Putting him through his paces.” Natasha said with a sly grin. 

“Steve wants a check-in.” Wanda said to Natasha. “And there’s breakfast. Come inside.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spent time with Bucky this time. We needed a bit of a look at how he’s feeling about everything. Also sorry for the long time between chapters, I’m a slow writer and it's been really hard with Covid. Stay safe everyone.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic literally came from a dream I had, but there’s going to be a fair amount of plot to go through before we get to the scene I dreamed. If you’re here because of my tumblr post please be patient! You know what’s coming, I promise we’ll get there. Feel free to yell at me on tumblr anytime. I also post a lot as I'm writing so you might get some sneak peeks or deleted scenes. https://thatmadhatter.tumblr.com/
> 
> The ever wonderful DreadfulDragon has agreed to come in and beta this story. She deserves a million thanks for correcting my typos and tenses.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * ["Fuck Joss Whedon": a found poem of AO3 tags](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29397195) by [thenewbuzwuzz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenewbuzwuzz/pseuds/thenewbuzwuzz)




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